The Last of the Grey Wardens
by Dorryza
Summary: Being a Grey Warden is already dangerous enough even without Darkspawn swarming around every crevice. But can the last of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden fight off the Archdemon and its Darkspawn horde? Or will a dysfunctional group of companions in an even more dysfunctional country spell disaster even before that final fateful encounter?
1. Chapter 1

So, I don't know why I started this. I suppose I just replayed DA:O, and I how much potential the story has.

This story (if I can just keep up with it, that is) will not be a strict novelization of the game, but will instead be my own twist on the events of the game. That means, there will be major differences. But not quite this chapter yet.

Oh, and criticizing reviews, if constructive, are always welcomed. I do want to be a better writer.

* * *

"Is this meant to be some kind of insult? Sending you, a _templar_?" the mage asked angrily. "Or is it something else?" Angry brown eyes narrowed. "Is it a _threat_?"

"N-no" Alistair stammered briefly before collecting himself. "I was simply the nearest person she could ask to deliver this message."

"And what is it?" He asked impatiently. "I'm quite busy, you know, helping the Grey Wardens- by the king's order, I may add."

"It's simply that she desires your presence" Alistair said while watching a woman approach from the corner of his eye.

"Tell the _revered mother_" The scorn and derision in the mage's tone made it clear exactly what he thought of her- "that I will _not_ be harassed in this manner!" He began to turn away while snorting in derision.

"Oh but we were getting along so well together!" Alistair said in a sing-song happy voice. "I was even going to name one of my children after you- _the grumpy one._" The sudden change in tone made it clear that the mage was in no way off the hook.

"I-" the mage sputtered for a moment. "Fine! I'll go, if only to get you off my back!" He began to walk away, muttering under his breath all the while. Alistair turned to the new arrival.

Long auburn hair cascaded down to pool around her shoulders, and her face was framed by high cheekbones and small set of laugh lines. The smirk on her lips was mirrored in her storm gray eyes as she settled back on one leg. "Enjoying yourself?" she said, laugh carried through in her voice as well. Her head angled up- she was slightly shorter than him. He could notice small freckles dotting her face in the sunlight.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Don't you love how the Blight just brings everyone together?"

She gave a small snort. "Nothing like a nation-threatening disaster to make people start turning on each other at the slightest provocation."

"Tell me about it", came the exasperated reply. A moment passed, before Alistair remembered his manners. "Come to think of it, I don't think we've met yet. I'm-"

"Alistair, I presume?" she interrupted.

"Yes, that would be me. Which would make you the new recruit..." he paused, racking his head.

"Elissa", she supplied. "Elissa Cousland." Something about that name seemed to sadden her, but Alistair barely noticed that as his mind was processing the name 'Cousland'. He'd be fighting alongside a Cousland, the highest of the nobles, second only to the king! "Why did he recruit a Cousland?" he thought out loud.

Instantly, the chipper attitude that Elissa had worn abruptly disappeared, replaced by pain. "I-" her lips thinned. "I don't want to talk about that," she forced out.

Now, Alistair wasn't necessarily the most knowledgeable about women, but even he knew that this was bad. So he did the only thing he could think of, and ran away from that subject. "So, you're the new recruit, then? Why don't we go meet your new brothers?"

"You mean Daveth and Ser Jory?" Elissa grabbed onto the new subject like a drowning man might grab onto a piece of driftwood. "I've already met them."

"Oh?" came the response from the templar. "What did you think?"

"Daveth's an ass, and Ser Jory's an overzealous coward," came the instant reply.

"Wow! That's cold," Alistair remarked, but with a smile. _I like her already_, he thought, turning to head towards the mess tent.

"Tell me it's not true and I'll tell you that you're a liar," Elissa shot back, turning to follow him.

"Weeeelllll" Alistair drew out. "You may have a _bit_ of a point..."

"Only a bit?" she quipped, with an angelic expression on her face.

A few steps later, he was forced to admit, "Alright, maybe you're completely right." He glanced at her again and was greeted with a sunny smile. He couldn't help but smile in return.

"So", she started as they hunched over what appeared to be the week's fifth serving of mutton stew, "Why are you looking at me like that?" She gave another smirk. "Never seen a woman before?"

"Right, so that innocent thing?" he muttered into his soup. "Not falling for it." When he saw her raise an eyebrow, he realized that he hadn't actually answered the question. After swallowing his current mouthful, he said thoughtfully, "Well, I just haven't seen any female Grey Wardens before." He gave a shrug. "As far as I can tell, you're the first." He went back to his stew, slurping it down happily.

Her eye twitched. "Might you know why?" she asked.

He shrugged again. "Not me. Do you?"

Elissa smirked again- he couldn't tell whether he was amused or scared by that smirk. "Well," she mused, "I think it's just that women are just too smart to be Grey Wardens, mmm?"

"Oh?" Alistair said. "Then what does that say about you?"

"Incredibly unlucky" came the completely deadpan response.

Alistair winced. "Ouch," came the slightly pained reply. But he still smiled a bit nonetheless. _I really like this one_, came the thought. And then a second, more morbid one.

_I hope she survives the Joining_.

_Maker, I hope they _all_ survive the Joining_.

* * *

"Remember, Elissa- three vials of darkspawn blood" Duncan reminded them gravely.

"Yeah, I got it," she said soberly. Elissa cast an eye over the three men behind her. "You heard him- let's get going." She was practically sprinting as she wound her way through the camp, surprisingly quick despite the heavy armor covering her body like a metal shell and the sword and shield strapped onto her back, both emblazoned with the Highever coat of arms.

Alistair, caught by surprise, only managed to catch up to her because she had halted in front of the mabari kennels. "Nawww, who's a good doggie," she cooed as the dog preening under the weight of her hand writhed in happiness and tossed in a couple of hearty barks for good measure. Her eyes passed right past Daveth and Ser Jory and settled on Alistair. "Come here, Alistair! Come meet Fluffy!"

"You've got to be kidding me," he replied incredulously as he stepped forwards. "You named a mabari warhound _Fluffy_?"

She gave a half-assed shrug. "That's what he was when I first got him" came the reply. "And aren't you just fluffy, aren't you, you cute little nugawug," she crooned, rubbing his head. "Ar-_ruff_!" came the excited reply.

"Now," she continued as Alistair approached. "This is Alistair. He is pack. So, no biting, alright?"

There was a flash of brown fur, and suddenly Alistair found himself on the ground with several hundred pounds of dog- wet, stinky dog- firmly planted on his chest. _And this is how it ends_, came the initial thought, before he realized this his face was also covered. With something thick and slimy. Dog spit, to be exact. "Ah," he muttered. "Got it, you love me, now shove _off_." Fluffy, unperturbed, gave him another long lick before clambering off.

Looking up, he saw no small amount of mirth shaking the frames of Elissa, Daveth, Ser Jory, and the surrounding soldiers. "Yes, yes, laugh it out," he said, cheeks flaming, as the kennel master, apparently well-versed in these occurrences, handed him a worn towel.

"So, Fluffy will be joining us. Any objections? None? Alright, then." Elissa declared. She strode to the gate leading out to the Wilds, her companions trailing after her. "Good luck, Wardens!" came the cry from a soldier sitting in the camp, suddenly taken up all of the other soldiers in the vicinity.

"War_den_," she said, putting emphasis on the singular. But she still smiled and waved before walking out the gate separating them from the Korcari Wilds.

Only Alistair, standing close to her at the door, caught the pained expression that had followed when she had been labeled as a Grey Warden.


	2. The Joining

I wonder if people still read DA fics, much less DA:O fics. Oh well.

* * *

It had been about four miles since their last human contact- a returning scouting party- and they had trekked almost seven miles from Ostagar. Alistair had kept his pace slower so he drifted to the rear of the party with Daveth and Ser Jory slightly ahead of him, and Elissa accompanied by Fluffy at the front. They were heading up a slight rise, and Alistair's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to her slightly swaying hips. He frowned slightly. _That's going to be a problem_, he thought. For, even in the Wardens- well, especially in the Wardens, given their rather limited recruiting pool- there would be plenty of men who would touch her or do... other things with her regardless of whether or not she permitted it. He frowned. He would have to talk with her about that soon, or maybe get someone else to talk with her about it- maybe Duncan. The more he thought about it, the better he liked that plan. He'd ask Duncan to do it.

His musings upon that were cut short rather abruptly, however, by the sudden stiffening of Fluffy and the soft growl that emanated from the Mabari warhound. Frowning, Elissa knelt down, running mailed fingers though his fur, murmuring to him. A moment later, she turned her head to face Alistair. "It can't be darkspawn, can it?" she asked quietly.

"Darkspawn?" he heard Jory sputter. "We- we can't fight them! Not by ourselves!"

"Maybe you should've considered that before becoming a Grey Warden", replied Alistair somewhat wearily. He was already growing tired of Jory's cowardice- caution was one thing, but Jory's sheer lack of courage was quite another. But, putting that out of his mind, he frowned. He couldn't feel that telltale calling of the taint that told him either darkspawn or a fellow Warden was nearby, other than that background tingle that was due to the sheer numbers of the horde still many miles away. "No," he said thoughtfully. "I don't think it's darkspawn."

Elissa frowned. She knelt again in front of Fluffy. "What is it, boy?" she asked softly. Fluffy, still tense as a taut bowstring, only let out a brief "ruff!" in response.

"Guess we'll just have to see," she said, pulling the sword and shield off her back. Her companions followed, Alistair with a look of interest, Daveth with a look of concentration, and Ser Jory with a look of abject terror. After she glanced back at them to make sure they were prepared, she began tip-toeing towards the summit of the small hill as best she could in chainmail.

She peered over the top.

Several pairs of golden eyes peered back at her.

And suddenly, all hell broke loose.

One of the wolves at the top of the rise leapt straight at Elissa's head. She ducked and angled her shield up, so that the wolf simply skidded off the shield and landed on a small heap at the bottom of the hill. Alistair watched with baited breath as a second wolf, slightly smarter than its brother, hurled itself at her chest. This one, she barely caught on her shield before she shoved it back. While it was struggling on the ground, she simply thrust her blade into its belly. She turned to another wolf that Fluffy was currently entangled with, and Alistair turned around abruptly.

Another small pack- or perhaps, another segment of the pack currently boiling around them- burst out of the treeline at the bottom of the hill. Alistair's imposing figure and shining splintmail armor drew the attention of the vast majority of them, and he took cover behind his shield, blocking which attacks he could and attempting to throw his sword into the path of those that his shield couldn't save him from. He backtracked furiously- getting surrounded would mean certain death- when he heard a deep _thrum_ and the wolf that had been regathering its wits to leap at him again in front of him simply toppled over. A few moments passed before Alistair noticed the grey quarrel sticking out of the wolf's flank. He spared a glance over to the top of the ridge, and Daveth's cool eyes met him, another arrow already drawn. He released again, and other wolf, this time struck in the flank, yowled in pain- this one fleeing back into the safety of the woods. Seeing the fate of their brothers, the rest of the wolves backed away. Without the pressure to defend, Alistair lashed out with his longsword twice, and two more wolves lay whimpering on the ground, hearts pumping out ruby blood to pool on the ground.

Turning around, Alistair assessed his companions' conditions. Elissa and Fluffy seemed to have escaped their assailants unscathed, but Ser Jory had been driven back to a tree by a growling trio of wolves, and was furiously swinging his greatsword in huge arcs in an attempt to ward off the wolves. One of them simply leapt over Jory's blade and crashed into his chest. The Redcliffe Knight stumbled backwards and hit the tree. The shock caused the wolf on his chest to bounce off, but it also caused him to lose his grip on his sword. He stood there, staring like a statue at his empty hand, almost not noticing the wolves prowling hungrily around him, before one gathered itself and leapt straight at his face.

And suddenly, Elissa was there, her sword arcing down in a vicious slice that smacked a wolf down midair. The other wolves turned to face this new threat. They split up and loped so that she was between them. Elissa could only defend against one. And, when the first wolf lunged at her, her outstretched sword was waiting and skewered the wolf using its own momentum. But she couldn't defend against the second wolf and, with a short gasp of surprise, she went flying forwards, the last wolf gnawing stubbornly at the gap between her helmet and her chainmail.

Alistair suddenly realized belatedly that he hadn't moved during those last few action-packed moments, and started sprinting towards his beleaguered comrade, cursing himself all the while. But it didn't matter. He wouldn't be fast enough...

But Fluffy, barreling down the hill towards his mistress, would be. With a short bark of indignation, the Mabari pummeled right into the side of the wolf on top of his mistress, and began worrying at its neck. It struggled back for a few moments before it fell still. Satisfied, Fluffy padded back to Elissa and gave a worried whine.

After what felt like an hour of running, Alistair finally arrived next to her. Fluffy gave her another lick, but this time she responded, giving a groan and muttering something that simply ended in "dog spit." She started to get up, but Alistair put an end to that, pulling a health poultice out of his pack. "That neck wound needs to be treated," he told her seriously. She relaxed.

"Jory and Daveth?" she asked.

"They're fine," he replied absentmindedly, uncorking the little bottle. He winced at the sharp smell- what did healers put in that stuff anyways?- and applied it liberally before winding a bandage around it. He could feel her stiffen slightly in pain, and he winced in understanding. The poultices stung just as badly as they smelled. Finally, he tied the bandage up. "All done", he announced.

She pushed herself up, then turned to face him. "Thanks Alistair," she said with a grin. He grinned back, somewhat awkwardly.

"We have to turn back!" Jory protested loudly, interrupting them. "It's too dangerous! I was almost killed!"

"We haven't even encountered any darkspawn yet," Alistair pointed out. "Let alone bottled some of their blood. We should keep moving."

Jory, realizing that Alistair was a lost cause, turned to Elissa. "_You_ were almost killed as well," he pleaded, trying to appeal to her.

"We have a mission", Elissa reminded him cooly. All traces of the smile that had lingered on that face only instants earlier were wiped away. "One I intend to carry out." She breezed past him and strode deeper into the swamp, Alistair trailing after her.

Daveth patted Jory on the shoulder. "Best follow after them," he said, not unkindly as he stepped into the marsh. A splash behind him informed him that Jory had at least followed, although even a casual observer could see that the knight was clearly unhappy about continuing into the wilds.

* * *

It was another two miles before Alistair stopped abruptly and held up a hand. The others, beside him, paused as well.

"Darkspawn ahead," he announced quietly.

Jory, already shaken, stuttered out, "well- well, what do we do?"

"Our job, right?" Elissa said almost casually. But, looking closer, Alistair could see that her eyes were flickering side by side slightly too quickly and her pose was slightly too tense for her to be as relaxed as her tone suggested. He started forwards to perhaps offer some words of encouragement, but found himself beaten there by Daveth. "Darkspawn ain't too bad," the thief-turned-Warden said as he grinned infectiously. "Brain 'em and they go down just as fast as anything else."

"Yeah," Alistair added. "Just stick together and we'll be fine. So..."

He paused when he noticed everyone looking intently at him. "What, is there something on my nose? Did I forget to wipe of that last bit of cheese?"

"You kind of are the Grey Warden," Elissa pointed out. She continued after noticing his blank stare. "You know, the darkspawn expert?"

"Oh." He said with minimal comprehension. "Oh! No, I'm not here to lead," he backtracked verbally. "I'm only here to evaluate and protect, really. Part of this is a test to ensure you can be independent, which is important for a Warden."

"Uh..." Elissa scrunched up her brow in concentration. "Well, do you know exactly how many darkspawn are waiting for us over this?" She waved absentmindedly at the large rise in front of them.

Alistair thought for a bit, trying to find that insistent nagging at the bottom of his head that was his connection to the taint. Suppressing his templar training for a moment, he concentrated before saying, "anywhere from five to twenty." He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry- more experienced Wardens can be more specific, but I'm pretty junior myself, so..." he trailed off awkwardly.

Elissa's eyebrow rose up, as if surprised. _Oh, sod it_, thought Alistair immediately. _Warden secret._

_Well,_ another part of him said_, isn't she about to find out the hard way soon anyways?_

_Duncan told you to make sure _nothing _got out! _Replied the first part furiously.

His inner dialogue was suddenly interrupted by a hand waving in front of his face, and as he started, his eyes flicked up to the bemused face of Elissa.

"Ah, sorry", he muttered. "spaced."

"We can see that," she said as her lips quirked upwards.

"Right, so, what were you saying again?" Alistair interjected quickly in an attempt to change the subject.

Although her eyes still radiated laughter, her face turned somewhat somber. "Just wondering if there were any other tips you, ruthless darkspawn killer you" she rolled her eyes a bit here, but her resurgent grin told him that she didn't _really_ mean it "could give us?"

"Yeah. Me, bane of darkspawn. Rah, rah." He deadpanned. Continuing on in a slightly more serious light, he said, "just try to avoid coming into contact with their blood." He thought for a moment. "Or their blades. Or anything of theirs, really. The darkspawn Taint is a potent poison." He tried not to think about the fact that all three of them would be drinking that poison later that night.

"Anything else?" she pressed on.

"Uh..." his lips thinned as he tried to think. "Right! We need to fill up at least three vials full of darkspawn blood." Seeing their looks of revulsion, he shrugged. "Sorry, but it's a kind of... tradition." He gave himself a mental pat on the back for so deftly avoiding the real reason for the blood before he saw both Elissa's and Ser Jory's suspicious looks. He tried to move on as fast as he could.

"And don't forget that these darkspawn" -here, Alistair nodded briefly at Daveth, who nodded back- "might look scary, but die just as easily as anything else if you stick something pointy in them. So, don't be scared, because we can beat them." He gave them what he hoped was an encouraging grin.

His companions looked just as tense as before, with even Fluffy being wound up tighter than a coiled spring. He knew the feeling- he'd felt it just before all his encounters with darkspawn, the storied bane of humanity, and knew on the inside that no amount of words could possibly assuage the fear that an lifetime had nurtured.

Realizing that Alistair had finished, Elissa turned around and started walking up the hill, instantly falling into the role of leader, and issued commands. "Alistair, Fluffy, with me at the front." She tossed him a glance. "We'll be protecting Fluffy's flanks. He can take down almost anything from the front, but can't do much if he's surrounded. I mean, we're the ones with the shields."

"Got the shields, might as well use them," Alistair replied absentmindedly, before he realized how stupid that sounded. "Right... so, shutting up now," he muttered. She snorted briefly, and then moved on.

"Ser Jory!" she called out.

He stiffened, responding with an automatic "milady."

"You'll be behind us," she said, looking into his eyes. "You will be making sure we don't get flanked from behind, and if one of us should fall, you take our place. Is that understood?"

He nodded, head shaking somewhat. "Yes, milday." He seemed to be in a state of shock, probably due to the fact that he was about to go and fight darkspawn, the childhood boogeymen that everyone grew up to hate and fear.

"Daveth," she called out next.

He grinned easily. "Great weather we're getting, eh?" he said, gesturing at the sunny sky above them.

"Perfect weather for killing darkspawn, you mean," she replied conversationally, before getting decidedly more serious. "You'll be at the top of this hill with that bow of yours. Aim for 'spawn trying to flank us first, and-" she turned briefly to Alistair.

"Mages?" she asked briefly.

"Yes," he replied. "They're called Emissaries."

"Right, so Daveth," she continued. "You'll probably be our only defense against those Emissaries, so aim for them first."

"Actually..." Alistair spoke up somewhat reluctantly, "I... may be able to help with that." At the sight of Elissa's quirked eyebrow, he elaborated further. "I'm a Templar."

"Odd," she said, "I hadn't exactly pegged you as a religious type." She gave him an odd, searching look. She looked like someone who had just figured out that a puzzle piece had been forced, and was trying to rearrange the remaining pieces to fit. "You have to be a sworn brother in a Chantry in order to be a Templar, right?"

"No. I mean, yes!" Alistair backpedaled verbally. "Yes, you have to be a sworn brother to be a Templar, but I wasn't _really _a Templar yet." Noticing Elissa's inquisitive look, he continued, "I've got the training, but I was- well, saved, really- by Duncan, before I was to take my final vows."

"So what does this mean?" Elissa continued relentlessly.

Alistair fidgeted. _By the Maker, she's worse than Revered Mother Hannah_. "It means that I _should_ be able to shut down any mages with a Holy Smite."

"Should?"

"Look," Alistair said, somewhat impatiently, "I know the theory, but I've never actually tried it before, alright?"

"Alright," Elissa said, hands held above her head in a conciliatory tone. "Same plan as before then," she told everyone, but facing Alistair, she said, "but if you see a mage, try for a smite."

Seeing that everyone was in agreement, she started heading up to the top of the rise before being stopped abruptly due to having her elbow grabbed by Alistair.

"Forgot to ask," he said seriously. "Right or left?"

"I'm on right," she replied calmly.

"And you're right-handed, like me, so your shield is on your left hand," he pressed on.

"That is correct," she said.

He shook his head. "If you think I'm going to let you be the exposed one, you- I just- no, let me be on the right."

"Oh?" she said, head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed slightly. "And who's the one wearing heavy chainmail, and who's the one wearing splintmail?

Alistair paused. He couldn't outright say that he was a Warden and thus was immune to the taint- that would be revealing even more Warden secrets that he had already begun to let slip. And he couldn't admit that some part of him wanted to protect her, seeing as she had already handled herself very well in the fight against the wolves. She had higher quality arms and armor, and probably better training from a personalized master-at-arms to boot. And so, he settled on the lame-sounding- even to him- sentence, "I have more real world experience than you."

He thought that this would be the most conciliatory thing he might be able to say.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The nice, playful, almost mild girl that had been in front of him completely disappeared. What replaced her was a woman with thinned lips and eyes burning with wrath who, it seemed, almost _should have_ burst into screams instantly, but was instead quiet. It made the transformation that much more jarring and terrifying.

"Tell me," she forced out in a low growl. "Tell me, have you woken up in the middle of the night with screams, fire, and smoke swirling around your bedroom? Tell me, have you opened your door, groggy, confused, _naked_, to find three very excited soldiers in front of you? Tell me, have you seen your father die at the hands of who you thought were a friend, and left your mother to die at his side?"

"I-" Alistar croaked out, but Elissa was already storming away. Fluffy, sensing his mistresses' mood, shot a baleful glare at Alistair before loping away to join Elissa, giving her a worried whine.

"I don't understand," Alistair said in bewilderment to no one in particular. "I was just trying to-" He searched for the words. "Trying to..."

"Be chivalrous and all?" came the response.

Alistar nodded reluctantly.

He found his shoulder clapped by Daveth. "Oh, don't worry about it, Ally." Cheekily grinning in response to Alistair's scowl, he continued, "some women are just like that." At Alistair's quizzical expression, he elaborated, "they just don't like being treated like..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "like women," he finished lamely, shrugging.

Alistair glanced at Elissa again. She wore an annoyed scowl on her face and jerked her head to the right, as if calling him to her. The party took their respective positions, Elissa pointedly striding over to the right of Fluffy, before cresting the hill. The band of a dozen or so darkspawn, just having ambushed a convoy of some sort, chittered in alarm at the unexpected intruders. However, they took a look at he meagre size of the party, saw how much they outnumbered the new arrivals, and so broke into a ragged charge towards the humans.

But, they broke on the Alistair's and Elissa's shields like the tide breaks on the rocks. Fluffy lunged forwards, breaking darkspawn bones left and right, while Elissa's and Alistair's swords lashed out at the genlocks and hurlocks in front of them. The darkspawn were so intent on flanking the shield wall that Alistair and Elissa were maintaining that they never noticed Ser Jory, whose face was frozen in terror, but who was still relentlessly laying about with his greatsword. And the darkspawn that had managed to evade Ser Jory were taken down by quick, accurate shots from Daveth, who had taken up a position at the top of the hill that they had just crested.

Just when the stream of darkspawn seemed to lessen, Alistair felt the telltale tingling that could only mean one thing. And he suddenly pointed his sword towards the hooded creature with the twisted iron staff, screaming, "_Mage!_"

The hurlock emissary, however, would not go down without a fight. It pointed its staff towards Elissa, whose hair and bright chainmail was now splattered with blood. Suddenly, she stumbled, blinked rapidly, and then stared in horror into nothingness. Terror welled up in her face, and, trembling, she suddenly screamed, and then cried out, "get away, get off, get _off!_", and she brought up her arms, trying to block an imaginary assailant.

Alistair had seen that type of spell before, and knew at least that he couldn't do anything about it other than kill the source. He charged towards the emissary, blanking his mind as he went. The darkspawn, just as predicted, tried the same spell on the charging templar. However, the weak images that were sent into Alistair's mind were quashed easily by his trained mind, which knew exactly what to look for and discarded the fake images parading through his head. He almost automatically brought up his shield, dissipating a bolt of arcane energy, and then threw himself forward, sword first, and impaled the hurlock.

Alistair turned over, laying on his back, sunken into that post-battle exhaustion that everyone seemed to face after a hard-won fight. His reverie was interrupted, however, by a voice yelling, "Simon!"

His head turned to the side, he witnessed Elissa, now recovered from her nightmare, bending over a bloodied figure in Cousland livery. The body stirred, then opened his eyes.

"Milady," Simon croaked out. "What are you doing _here_?"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about that- where's Fergus? You were with him right?"

He nodded weakly. "I heard him, I think-" he coughed violently. "At least, I thought I heard him shouting- _ah, my side_-" he winced- "shouting for us to f-form up. And then-"

Elissa nodded. "Shh... just take it easy now, Simon. We'll do what we can for you."

Simon grinned weakly. "You always have, milady."

She walked a distance away, jerking her head to beckon Alistair over.

"Can we save him," she asked.

"O-o-of course," stuttered Alistair. "We can just bandage him up and package him back, right?"

Elissa's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "Did you see all that blood on him? He has to be tainted."

"But at least we should bring him back to the healers," Alistair pleaded.

"What?" Elissa asked viciously. "So he can die in agony on top of a hospital bed?"

Alistair was silent.

"You saw those men. They were being tortured, ripped apart from the inside out." Elissa continued softly. "I refuse to let that happen to my old Master-at-Arms."

"Well then, what do we do?" asked Alistair.

"Can you cure him?" asked Elissa.

"I can't," Alistair said softly. "Nothing we can do for non-Wardens." _And he __probably __wouldn't survive the Joining, anyways_, his mind added on.

Stormy gray eyes gazed intently at his own, as if to attempt to discern any guile. After seeing nothing, Elissa turned away, hand pawing at the dagger at her side. "I guess there's only one thing to do," she said to herself.

"Wait!" Alistair said loudly. Elissa turned back. "I could do it," he said. "If you want me to," he added hastily.

"No," Elissa said. "I owe this, at least, to him."

She approached her old Master-at-Arms, attempting to hide the dagger behind her back. She failed. Simon took one look at the odd placement of her arms and the guilty expression on her face, and came to the same conclusion that she had.

"It's okay," he said softly. He then snorted softly. "Don' want me turnin' into one o' them spawn, now do we?"

Alistair turned and quickly walked away. This conversation was not for him.

* * *

After some time, Elissa returned to the rest of them, wiping some blood off of her blade and what appeared to be tear tracks off of her face.

"Hey," Alistair asked. "You alright?"

"I just killed the man who taught me how to fight," Elissa chocked out. "No, I'm not."

"If you ne-"

"Let's just go and kill some darkspawn," Elissa cut him off.

The party bulldozed through several more bands of darkspawn, as well as another particularly adventurous- or hungry- wolf pack. However, when they reached the location of the Treaty chest, they were confronted by the unpleasant surprise that it simply wasn't there. A raven-haired, scantily clad apostate, was, however.

"Careful," Alistair whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "She's a rogue mage- you can't trust her."

She laughed heartily. "Trust! Coming out of the mouth of a templar!" She grinned cockily as Elissa looked at Alistair in a new light. "Trust is such a funny thing- so easy to forget, and so easy to _lose_."

"And can I trust you to give me a civilized greeting?" the sorceress said haughtily.

Elissa stepped forward. "You may. My name is Elissa." She jerked her head back towards the three dumbfounded and frozen men. "The tin can is Alistair, the archer is Daveth, and the Greatswordsman is Ser Jory." She stuck her hand out. "Nice to meet you."

The sorceress smiled and took her hand. "A most polite greeting. My name is Morrigan."

The two women turned back to look at the men. Alistair looked disapproving, Ser Jory looked terrified, and Daveth's mouth was opening and closing multiple times as he tried- apparently unsuccessfully- not stare at exactly what Morrigan's outfit covered and what it didn't.

Daveth was the one who broke the silence first. "I can't tell whether I want you to run away, or to kiss her."

"Daveth," Elissa said dangerously.

"Yeah?" He said with his customary grin.

"Shut up."

"Right," he said, while still lecherously looking at the very revealing outfit Morrigan was wearing. She noticed, smirked, and mimed a frog leaping away. Daveth very quickly averted his eyes after that.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to the treaties in that chest, would you?" asked Elissa.

"Why, they were removed," said Morrigan.

"Who removed them?" interjected Alistair. His eyes narrowed. "Was it you?"

"T'was not me," said Morrigan. "My mother took these treaties."

"Why? They're _Grey Warden Pro_-" Alistair was cut off by Elissa.

"Why were they removed?" she asked.

"The seals had broken, so she removed them for safekeeping," the sorceress responded.

"Can we have them?" Elissa asked.

"I cannot say- I can only take you to ask my mother," Morrigan replied.

After a bewildering set of twists and turns in the swamp, they arrived at a dilapidated hut. A wizened old woman stepped out, a crooked grin on her face.

"Why Morrigan," she said, "You never told me that you'd have visitors!"

"Apologies, mother, but they were somewhat... unexpected."

"And who might you be?" asked the old woman.

Elissa stepped forth. "My name is Elissa. Pleased to meet you."

The old woman cackled. "Manners? For an old hag like myself? I had almost lost hope! As for my name..." she trailed off into thought. "I have many, but you may call me Flemeth."

"Flemeth?" asked Daveth in terror. "_The_ Flemeth? Witch of the Wilds?"

"Th-they say that she kidnaps fair maidens and _eats_ them to maintain her immortality!" said Ser Jory.

Flemeth grinned. "Stories? Legends? Eating children? Bah! I am nothing more than an old woman that happens to be named Flemeth." Daveth's and Ser Jory's faces quite clearly showed that they didn't buy that for a second.

Alistair shook his head. "Nevermind that- what have you done-"

"With the treaties?" she asked. At Alistair's dumbfounded expression, she simply smirked and said, "I knew that you were Wardens, and Wardens would come only for the treaties."

Elissa cleared her throat and Flemeth continued. "The seals had broken, so I kept them with me to keep them safe." At Alistair's incredulous expression, she elaborated. "The Blight threatens me like everyone else, and only the Wardens have the strength to defeat it. It is in my best interests to aid the Wardens however I can; and, if I kept them safe, it meant a larger army to stand before me and the Blight."

"Very well then," Elissa said. "Can we have them?"

"Of course," said Flemeth. She ducked into her hut for a moment, then came out with several scrolls wrapped in oilskin. She beckoned towards the camp at Ostagar. "Morrigan, would you be so kind?"  
Morrigan sighed and rolled her eyes. "Follow me," she said in exasperation.

* * *

It was a weary, hungry group that trudged through the Ostagar gates. There, after Alistair told them to meet at the overhang at nightfall, the party split up. Ser Jory made his way to the makeshit altar to pray, while Daveth seemed to be headed towards the quartermaster, eager to sell off the loot that he had carried with him. Elissa, with Alistair accompanying her, went to tie Fluffy up at the kennels. They walked in a companionable yet weary silence, as the events of the day had done just as much to tire them out as they had to tie them together with the bond of warriors blooded together.

As Alistair walked beside her, his mind wandered. It flickered through multiple things- the daily prayers to the maker that he'd missed with nary a thought, the delectable smell of cheese coming from the kitchens, and, of course, the darkspawn lingering in the back of his mind. But it always seemed to wander back to the woman walking beside him.

Elissa, he decided, was a distinct enigma that he could not figure out. She seemed nice- companionable, at times- and yet had flared up when he'd tried to help her. She was a highborn lady and, where any other might be haughty and conceited (Maker, he tried to put that one chance meeting with Habren out of his head but it _wouldn't get out_), she had taken her place along the foot-sloggers and been offended at even the suggestion of preferential treatment. She was, he reasoned, a puzzle that he simply could not solve.

His musings were rather rudely interrupted by a glob of dog spittle splashing all over his chest and neck. Shaking his head in surprise, he saw a cheerful Fluffy and a grinning Elissa. "You know," she said, petting her Mabari, "when I said pack, I didn't mean try to kiss him!"

Fluffy simply whuffed happily in response.

Shaking her own head in response to her incorrigible dog, Elissa lead her Mabari into the holding pen. Alistair couldn't help but watch as she stepped into a ray of light, illuminating her smile. She was also, he realized, quite beautiful. _Very_ beautiful, in fact. Then he shook his head. He'd have a better chance finding a relic of Andraste herself than any form of relationship with her.

"Right," she said. "Time to go get some dinner."

"Ah," Alistair said. "You probably don't want to eat-" she raised an eyebrow quizzically at him- "eat that much, that is, before the Joining." Alistiar saw the curiosity in Elissa's eyes. _Darkspawn blood doesn't really help with digestion_, he finished mentally. "Just trust me," he said.

Elissa shrugged. "Fine, but do I get to eat after?"

Alistair remembered his own Joining and how ravenous he was after it. "You'll be eating plenty after your Joining," he said with a hint of a smile on his face, which then froze, as a he realized exactly what he'd said. "I don't mean, of course, that you-" he began, verbally backtracking however he could, looking down in shame.

When he chanced a glace back up, seeing Elissa with a wry grin on her face. "Let's just say that I burn it all off really quickly, and leave it at that, hmm?" she said in a teasing voice.

"R-right. Sure," He panicked, and started to back away. "Now, I'm sure I-"

He bumped right into- well, someone- who gave out gave out an startled exclamation. He turned around to see the half-angry, half-bemused face of an elderly mage. "Now, you watch where you're going young man," she said in a mock huff.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He glanced down and realized that he had knocked several old tomes into the ground. "Sorry, sorry", he said, almost in a sort of mantra while bending down to fetch the falled books.

Above him, he could feel the amused expressions of that evil old mage as well as Elissa boring into him, before they cared to glance at each other. A startled gasp came from the mage as she almost breathed out, "Elissa?"

"Wynne?" Elissa replied?

"I- young woman, what are you doing out here!" Wynne said in outrage. "This is no place for a lady,-" Elissa gave out a short snort of laughter- "especially not one garbed in heavy armor! I will find your father and your brother, and give them a talking-to that-"

"Wynne." Elissa interjected quietly. "My parents are dead, and my brother is missing."

That stopped the mage in her tracks. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took Elissa's hands into her own. "Oh, child, I'm so sorry..."

"I-" Elissa broke off. She simply couldn't say anything.

Clearly in the attempt to change the subject, Elissa dragged up Alistair from his self-appointed task of collecting the books. "This is Alistair, Grey Warden recruit. Wynne, Alistair. Alistair, Wynne."

She turned to him. "Wynne, here, is one of the best healers in all of Ferelden."

"And you should know, young lady," huffed Wynne, sensing the topic change and latching onto it smoothly. "I spend half my time in Highever just trying to fix your wounds!" She shook her head. "It's like she goes out of her way to injure herself!" she said to Alistair.

"That's not quite true," Elissa protested weakly.

"Oh?" Wynne asked incredulously. "Then what about-"

"My apologies, Wynne," Duncan interjected, walking into the conversation, "but I must take Alistair and Elissa away from you for some Warden business."

"Ah, hello Duncan," the mage said. She tilted her head and an expression of sadness came to light. "It is time for her, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

Duncan's only response was a solemn nod.

"Well then," Wynne said gently. "I wish you luck in your Joining," she directed towards Elissa. Then, facing all of them, she continued, "And I wish all of you luck in the battle to come, Maker protect us."

"Maker protect us all," Duncan said seriously. Alistair following him, the Warden-Commander lead Elissa away from Wynne, who was attempting to conceal her anxiety for the young Cousland, but not succeeding. But Elissa kept her eyes fixed forward, and did not see.

* * *

The torches, the stone floor, the night sky, and the huge silver chalice on a pedestal- they all reminded Alistair of his own joining. He stood at the side of Duncan as his mentor recited a brief history of the Wardens and studiously ignored the sputtering of Ser Jory before nodding to Alistair.

The Templar stepped up, looking deep into the nervous, yet expectant faces in front of him. Any other time, he might be nervous himself and tongue-tied, but not now. These were not his own words, but the words of others, dozens if not hundreds of generations of Wardens before him. He was speaking not for himself, but for the extended ideal of Grey Wardens as a whole, and the honor of that far outweighed any potential stage-fright he might have felt. And so, with barely a tremor, Alistair intoned the traditional words, "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day..." He paused. "Know that we shall join you." his eyes turned down as he remembered that failed recruit of his own joining, Eric with his fiery red hair, boistrous laugh, and loaded dice- just snuffed out, like that.

"It is time," Duncan said gravely.

Elissa's eyes were hooded and disturbed and Ser Jory looked terrified out of his wits. To Alistair's surprise, it was Daveth who stepped up first. The normally frivolous rogue was now the image of sobriety as he accepted the silver Joining Chalice. He took a moment to look at the swirling mixture of both Darkspawn and Archdemon blood, as well as Lyrium, before tipping the chalice and taking a deep gulp.

Almost instantaneously, Alistair could hear a choking sound, and saw Daveth's eyes go white. Daveth fell first to his knees, then writhed in agony on the ground, but Alistair already knew that he was gone. Duncan's only reaction was to close his eyes briefly and mutter a quiet, "I am sorry, Daveth."

He turned next to the trembling Ser Jory. "It is time," Duncan intoned once more.

"No!" the terrified knight shouted. "I will not! There is no glory, no honor in this!"

"There is no turning back," Duncan growled.

"You can't make me!" he said in panic. "I have a wife, and unborn babe! You can't-"

Duncan drew closer. Ser Jory reached behind him to take out his greatsword in terror. He made a half-hearted swipe, but Duncan whipped his dagger out in a blur, knocked the offending blade to the side, and stabbed Ser Jory in the stomach in one smooth motion.

"I am sorry, Ser Jory." he said solemnly.

He turned to Elissa. The Cousland was scared too, despite the fact that she tried to hide it. "Will you accept your fate?" Duncan asked her. She remained still for a moment, then gave a brief, hard nod.

"Then come forth," he said. "It is time."

_Oh Maker_, Alistair thought,_ two are already dead, please just let her live..._

She stepped forward, and carefully cupped the chalice within her two hands. She breathed in deeply, although whether it was to smell the heady mixture or steel her nerves, Alistair could not tell. Then, in one sharp motion, she brought the cup up to her mouth and swallowed.

And then, Alistair was stumbling across the camp, tasting bile in his mouth. He emptied the contents of his stomach into an alcove between two tents, tears streaming down his face. He could only hear Duncan's deep voice saying the words with the finality of a judge.

"_I am sorry, Elissa._"


End file.
